Fight or Flight
by FaziO
Summary: Post Season 11 Finale. Married Jackson & April struggling through the grieving process after the induction/termination death of their baby boy, encounter a crisis of faith in their marriage. Will the fight or flight response prevail...
1. Chapter 1

**Fight or Flight**

 **A/N: So Japrilites, GA Season 11 has proven to be abundantly challenging for Japril and yet our couple have had the mettle to overcome…until the finale, that is. Here is when we learn that the loss of their baby has reverted our characters to their previous habits of temporary resolution – Jackson by burying his emotions and April by running. While I have the utmost faith that GA Season 12 will be their journey back to each other, I have some ideas to basically show their emotional journey post Season 11 finale. This is total fanfiction and not at all the route that I envision the writers and Shonda pursuing but I thought that this would be an entertaining project over the hiatus. The plan is to pen a multi-chapter fic, so please read and review as I would love to know your thoughts and while I am aware of the story I want to tell, I am always open to suggestions (welcome it, actually!) – I may not incorporate ideas if they deviate substantially from the plot I envision but I would seriously consider it if it adds to the story. Hope you enjoy this initial chapter! Disclaimer as usual: All characters belong to Grey's Anatomy and well, Shonda Rhimes.**

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Chapter 1

He stood at the side of the bed looking down at her sleeping form. From the tear tracks, puffy eyes and fetal position she had curled herself into he knew that she had cried herself to sleep and the small corner of his heart not encased in anger and hurt, broke a little more. Slightly inebriated as he was and pulling his usual number of stoic for their Grey-Sloan Family, he felt exhausted. Home with April, having her in his arms, was where he had always allowed himself to be vulnerable. Except he hadn't had that for the last year or so of their lives – since they'd lost Samuel in fact. How could they call it 'Losing' someone he wondered, not only had they barely had him with them but using the term 'Lost' implied pure carelessness and neither of Samuel's parents had ever been careless with him. His arrival into their lives had actually been eagerly anticipated, they had been so ready to herald in their new roles as parents, so excited to begin this new chapter of their lives, three instead of two.

He hurt. More than he'd been able to articulate, more than he thought possible. He hurt for himself and he hurt for April. He hurt for his son who never got to live; the knowledge that he couldn't protect Samuel ate at him. Most of all though, he hurt knowing that he'd lost April too. Being friends they had always counted on each other but from the moment she reached out and grabbed his hand at the wedding ceremony she abandoned, they scaled a new plateau in their relationship – they became all to each other. How many times had she defended him to Webber, his new step-dad, he realized, and he had stood up for his love, for his April, to his mother, the extremely formidable Catherine Avery (hyphen Fox, hyphen Webber? Who the heck knew?). How had they reached this point, where not only was he not a source of comfort and protection to her but where he'd actually become a hindrance to her recovery? Her fire within had been doused and where did he see the emergence of sparks today – when she was performing a daring trauma rescue! Ironic really, that ensuring the survival of a family is the catalyst to the conversation that destroys his.

He's actually surprised to find her here, he thinks to himself as he prepares for bed, deliberately avoiding his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He is weary of viewing the image of the defeated, disappointed, extremely angry man in the mirror – well okay the anger is new or at least the acknowledgement of its existence is a novel approach for them. There's a reason that he rarely visits his inner emotions and unfortunately for him it's a lesson he's doomed to keep on learning. It's an Insanity, he reflects, continuously repeating the same mistake and expecting a different outcome each time – kinda like his very own Groundhog Day. He becomes a ticking time bomb ready to explode once his trigger is activated and his trigger today was April wanting to leave for what was basically ANOTHER tour of duty, even though she had never been drafted by the United States Army in the first place.

He climbs into bed and for the first time since their marriage he doesn't reach over to pull April into his arms. While he has calmed down somewhat, his anger is on a slow burn. They haven't resolved anything, not his ultimatum and not her decision. He knows that he's blindsided her. Under normal circumstances the April that he loves would never knowingly hurt him as she has, but they are nowhere near business as usual. April turns over and even while asleep she naturally gravitates towards his warmth, burrowing into his neck and with her arm slung over his waist. He lays still as a statue for a moment, a scene from that night playing as a movie reel before his eyes – he'd pushed her away he recalls, physically removed her arms from around his neck, breaking a promise to himself with that action. He'd vowed to never again reject her when after their marriage she explained how he'd devastated her after the night of the super-storm. Without further analyzing he relaxes into her embrace, running his hand in a soothing motion up and down her back. It's become his pattern, usually after they've made love but also when they just lay in bed discussing each other's day or even when they were just too exhausted and fell straight into slumber. His arms have never felt so empty as the time when she was away and recently on the very rare occasion when either one of them has picked up a night shift.

Vacillating between sleep and wakefulness, his musings are interrupted when he feels soft kisses on his neck.

"April…" he whispers groggily, slightly exasperated. Such inappropriate timing, as usual – it's the Kepner way. Avery's, on the other hand, have impeccable timing – see exhibit A, one interrupted Taylor/Kepner wedding! "What…what are you doing?"

"I thought you wised up," she replies, trying her utmost to rekindle the fire by reverting to a past humorous moment – the moment she'd bared herself physically in the revolving door supply closet at work, ready to jump her husband's bones. She gazes into Jackson's not totally alert eyes and is this time clearly aware of the hurt she's been too blind to notice before. She's ashamed of herself. Samuel was his son too and in her quest for recovery she'd tunnel visioned her end goal – freedom from the never-ending pain and grief. All she'd accomplished, however, was burying the pain and in so doing burying the knowledge of Jackson's pain too. "I'm so sorry, Jackson," she whispers tears once again streaming down her face. "I…" she starts, not even sure how to continue, what to say.

"Shh, sweetheart, let's just get some sleep, okay? We'll talk some more tomorrow," he reassures while thumbing the tears from her cheeks.

She nods in affirmation, holding tightly onto the hands cupping her cheeks, afraid to release him lest he release her.

Her forlorn expression tugs at his heartstrings and reverting, just temporarily mind you, to uncommunicative lone wolf Jackson Avery behavior he pushes aside his emotions, his anger and pain, for the mind numbing solace of sex. It's almost desperate and neither one of them are gentle, both afraid that if they expressed any other emotion aside from pleasure, the tenuous threads holding their marriage together would unravel. Thrusting frantically into the welcoming receptacle of her body, he's filled with an ominous foreboding, culminating in him switching their positions. She does not let up on the pace he's set but once both achieve their climax she slows her movements to a gentle rocking and it has the bittersweet finality of a farewell. They fall asleep immediately after and in repose their dread of loss ends with them curling up into each other and clinging tightly, fearful of the symbolism of letting go.

He's terribly late the following morning and as April had been scheduled for an even earlier start, her absence that morning raises no red flags. He vaguely recalls a gentle kiss a "Goodbye" and an "I love you, always" which he later reflects would have tipped him off had he been conscious. He's actually quite upbeat and in a much more positive frame of mind – great sex and good food will do that to you he smirks as he hastily gobbles the breakfast April had left for him, his favorites. Apparently letting her feel the brunt of his anger had not been such a bad idea, she was going all out to atone for her past neglect and he could work with that. Perhaps they could look at last night as a re-commitment to their pledge to each other, he reflects as he jogs towards the hospital entrance from the parking lot. The idea is quickly jinxed when it hits him that the previous night had been his mother's wedding night and while he shuddered at the idea of thinking about his mother doing the nasty (even as blasé and nonchalant as she was about the subject, she was still his mother!) he didn't want to have that in common with her and he had a strong suspicion that his and April's first time together in San Francisco mirrored a first time for his mother and Richard Webber too.

He rushes through the ER doors, hoping for a quick glimpse and good-morning kiss from his wife before hieing to the burn unit for his consult, but she was nowhere in the vicinity.

Hunt corners him just before he steps onto the elevator with a seriously toned "Avery, we need to talk."

"Can it wait Hunt? I'm way late for my patient," he replies wondering at the urgency he senses in Owen Hunt's voice.

"Sure, come find me after. But seriously Avery, a heads-up would have been appreciated," Owen continues, confusing Jackson with his words and cool demeanor.

He puts out his hand to halt the elevator door from closing and quirking an eyebrow responds with a confused "What?"

"April's resignation," Owen continue unaware that the news he's imparting is a surprise to Jackson – more of a shock actually. "Effective immediately and without even the professional courtesy of two weeks notice!" he carries on uncharacteristically insensitive to the underlying nuances April's actions and Jackson's reactions are displaying.

"I…I'll come see you as soon as I'm done," Jackson motions, pointing to indicate Hunt in his statement, the slight catch in his voice barely noticeable as he releases the elevator door allowing it to speed upward to his destination floor.

He tries calling April on her mobile as soon as he exits the elevator, breathing a premature sigh of relief as it rings. The ringing continues for a while before it goes to voice mail and Jackson angrily disconnects. He has a patient to see to dammit and apparently a wife to locate.

Walking up to Owen Hunt he motions him towards the empty room that The Grey-Sloan Board has seconded in lieu of having no specified boardroom. Once there he starts pacing between the door and windows. By nature he is a very private person; the only person that knew all of his secrets was April, but this was information that he needed to find out about his missing wife, so pride took a backseat before Chief Hunt. Rubbing his hands agitatedly over his shaved head and then the back of his neck, he resumed his pacing and started his interrogation. "What happened this morning, Hunt? What did she say to you?"

"She asked for a private moment, apologized for her actions and handed me the letter of resignation. She said that she's sorry for leaving the hospital in the lurch but she's unable to work any notice and if necessary the hospital could take the reparation out of her final paycheck," Hunt complied.

"She's going to fucking Jordan right? After everything…" Jackson fumes, so livid he's unable to complete the sentence. Only April, he thinks, has this frightening ability to swing his emotions from pure elation to absolute rage.

"No Jackson," Owen softly answers. "She's given up being a trauma surgeon. She made it abundantly clear that she's eighty-sixed trauma and especially working on the front-lines."

"I don't understand…why is she not answering her phone? I have to go home Hunt, maybe she's there! I have to find out where her minds at," Jackson decides.

Owen's words stop him at the door. "You know why she was so successful in the field and initially at yesterday's trauma situation? She doesn't get to see or treat babies while in combat. Did you notice the distress on her face when that patients new-born was brought to the wreckage yesterday? I think she's suffering from severe PPD combined with losing your baby and…"

"We did not LOSE our son Hunt. He DIED! Our Samuel died!" Jackson interrupts with loud and clear enunciations, clueing Owen Hunt in to the fact that neither of Samuel Avery's parents had completely grieved or healed.

For the first time in his life Jackson shuns his professional responsibilities. With no explanation to interns, attendings, patients or staff he rushes out of the hospital intent on getting home and receiving a rambling explanation from April. He feels her lack of presence the moment he sets foot into their apartment. Dejectedly he hangs his keys on the hook adjacent to the front door, caressing it for a moment as he recalls why the gadget is there to begin with. He walks into their bedroom, opens the closet door and immediately notices the gaps where her clothing hung before. How did he miss noticing the absence that morning? He scurries around looking for any clues, coming up empty and once more tries her phone. Amazingly he hears Alicia Keys 'If I Aint Got You' (a surprising choice from a die-hard Justin Timberlake fan!) the ringtone that she'd chosen especially for him. He locates the phone in the bedside table along with three other items that crush his soul – her wedding band, the post-wedding 'engagement' ring he'd gotten her and a note with two words, 'I'm sorry'.

Although he plans to be there two weeks hence when the plane for Jordan takes off, he seriously doubts that will be April's destination or course of action. He knows that their final argument, his ultimatum really, woke up a part of her that had been in denial for so long. Hunt was right, April hadn't healed. She was however in full flight mode and he had no clue as to her whereabouts. Where the fuck was his wife?


	2. Chapter 2

**Fight or Flight**

 **A/N: Thank you so much to all of you who have shown such an interest in this fic, I really appreciate how forthcoming you are with your views. Apologies for the wait, I just hesitate to post something I'm not completely satisfied with. Apologies too, guest reviewers, for keeping you on tenterhooks. So, I have this suspicion that some of you may not be enamored with this chapter, but bear with me dear readers and we'll bare both Jackson and April's souls. If, however, you absolutely are unable to hold back strong, dissenting views then please put it in a review, I'm open to constructive criticism and I endeavor to reply to everyone. In fact some of the reviews of chapter 1 have already opened my eyes to other interpretations of the characters actions and I love it! Just to reiterate, this is fanfiction and not at all the route that I envision the writers and Shonda pursuing – it's just an enjoyable project over the hiatus. Hope this story line engages your curiosity and entertains your mind. Enjoy…or not (in which case I expect a blistering review ;-) All of these broken characters belong to Grey's Anatomy and the broken hearts of the fans are the purview of the intrepid Shonda Rhimes, who by producing a show with this level of heartbreak has given her tacit consent to her viewing public to change it up in fanfic world, don't you agree?**

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Chapter 2

On some level he acknowledged – this conversation was weird.

"Shonda is a good name – strong, proud…a force to be reckoned with."

"Are you crazy?! You want to name our baby after a murderer?! She kills people for a living! I'm sorry but you can't name a child Shonda. Shonda is the kid that steals other kids lunch money, she's the kid that punches other kids on the playground, Shonda's the bully and that's not gonna be our kid."

Why are these words he's uttering absurd yet a tad familiar? and there's something about last names as first names…

She gazes at him with the quirky smile of old and his happiness at her happiness jerks him awake. What a crazy dream, he reflects – he's done eating these hormonal induced concoctions before bed! He turns his head to the side and gazes lovingly at the recipient of these Jumping Jack hormones, her prominent belly up in the air. Shonda as a baby's name? He laughs to himself – where and when did that crazy ass name enter his consciousness?

 **Two Months Before…**

It was a quaint little seaside town, this little hamlet, where the investigator appointed by Mike Ferris, the Avery Family Attorney, had assured him his estranged wife was to be found. According to Mike and the blue-sheeted documents Mike had forwarded to him, April Kepner was most likely under the impression that she was his _ex_ -wife. She was in North Haven, Maine, in Penobscot Bay, a town within the auspices of Knox County. In hindsight her settling here was quite predictable – April had searched for a sanctuary and found a Haven. From what he was able to glean, via the Ferry Crossing and one inquisitive fount of information from a returning local, North Haven was predominantly a fishing and farming community that housed both a year-round island community and a prominent summer colony. The town was accessible by three-times daily ferry service from Rockland, or by air taxi from Knox County Regional Airport. In the interest of saving time he wished he'd known this before the drive down from Boston to Rockland and the subsequent ferry ride into Haven.

If he'd been his normal cool, calm and collected he knew he would have enjoyed the beauty of the scenic vista but all he could think about was those divorce papers and to cap of the situation just as he drove off the ferry John Legend started crooning…lyrics that spoke to him, that were a direct reflection of his feelings.

" _Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'll be the one, if you want me to. Anywhere, I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you…"_

"Oh April," he mentally muses. "Should I have followed you?"

" _And I am feeling so small, it was over my head, I know nothing at all. And I will stumble and fall, I'm still learning to love, just starting to crawl…"_

"This was new to me April, I was learning to love…you and…Samuel," his thoughts churn.

" _Say something, I'm giving up on you, I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you. Anywhere, I would've followed you, Say something, I'm giving up on you…"_

"I'm sorry April," he whispered.

" _And I will swallow my pride, you're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye…"_

"I'll swallow my pride for you April, but you said goodbye. Why? Why did you run?" he questioned her in abstentia. His face scrunched into a self-deprecating combination grin/grimace as the song reached its apex and then concluded – wouldn't the old April have loved this lopsided serenade? Well aside from the song choice of course. She would probably have sang to him, with him ad-libbing comments throughout – they'd done it numerous times before, especially when they car-pooled to and from work and not to mention that 13 hour trip to Lake Tahoe.

He reached his destination and sat in the parked car contemplating his next move when the woman hijacking his mind exited the building he was watching – North Haven's Doctors Rooms. He smiled at seeing her – even from that distance he couldn't help but admire her…she was beautiful, glowing in fact, apparently being away from him agreed with her. His slight grin disappeared completely however when April casually stepped into the arms of the silver-haired gentleman who walked out with her. What the hell, he thought, angrily alighting from his vehicle, ready to beat the guy to a pulp – elderly or not the dude was stepping out with his wife! In that moment he conveniently forgot that he was there to formalize their divorce, in the eyes of April's God they were still married and adultery was a sin, wasn't it? Something else that opportunely slipped his mind was that April was under the impression that they were divorced – wasn't divorce anathema to the Kepner's beliefs as well? He crossed the street and was just about to pull the guy around when someone easily recognizable stepped out from the doors behind them.

"Karen" he uttered in a suspicious tone.

"Dr. Avery," Karen responded trying to guiltily turn her face away. He'd been trying to find out where April was for the last six months and this brought home to him that his mother-in-law had been lying to him all along, not to mention trying to revert their relationship to a formal one. Karen never approved of the induction/termination route they'd followed to stop Samuel from having a pain-riddled life and that decision had dropped him in Karen's estimation. Not that he cared about her opinion one way or the other, what he hated was the guilt she piled onto April, dragging her between the two of them. He would never forgive her for not being there for her daughter.

"Jackson?" April questioned softly, very obviously surprised. "What…what are you doing here?" she anxiously pleated her white coat, biting the corner of her lip in that nervous gesture he used to love, most likely still did. From the first time she'd done it, in that San Francisco Hotel mens room, he'd always followed up with an antidote to her nervous habit by gently biting on that very spot and then soothing it with gentle suckling. At one time he'd reflected out loud to April that it surprised him that he never was able to leave a hickey there when, sensitive as her skin was, he left them everywhere else on her body. He gazed at her lips and as usual they got lost in each other's eyes, until she realized what she was doing and released her lip from the cage of her teeth. "Actually it's good that you're here, I was gonna contact you soon…" she continued. "Let's go inside where we can talk."

Released from the spell of her mannerisms, he glanced at the grey-haired man who had pushed him into revealing himself before he was ready. It wasn't surprising that he didn't recognize April's father. Joe had sported a full head of red hair at April's wedding and worry over his daughter, he assumed, had turned it completely white.

"Mr. Kepner, sir," he held out his hand to shake Joe's. Even though he had ruined April's wedding he knew that he always had Joe's seal of approval – all the guy had wanted was his daughter's happiness.

"Jackson, it's good to see you son. You and April have a lot to talk about so we'll leave you to it," Joe shook his hand then clasped his shoulder in a manly hug.

"What, Joe? April needs us, we need to be there too!" Karen interrupted.

"Karen," Joe Kepner, short of stature, just said the one word reinforcing who wore the pants in that family. He must be an amazing father Jackson reflected, a real example to emulate. It couldn't have been easy being the lone male voice in a family with five strong female voices.

"Shelby please hold back any patients," April said to the receptionist as they walked into the building and were about to make their way to what he guessed were her consulting rooms.

"And who is this?" asked Shelby, all flirtatious Southern Belle.

"Dr. Jackson Avery, my ex-husband," April introduced, ever polite.

"Dr. Jackson Avery, April's husband," Jackson replied at the same time.

Shelby looked confused and April looked surprised.

"What…what did you mean?" April asked as soon as they entered her office.

"Is that all you have to say to me April, sneaking away like a thief in the night. Then going to the lawyer and signing that damn Post-nuptial contract and asking him to draw up divorce papers for you!" Jackson exclaimed, giving no quarter. "You gave up so easily on us, April!" he continued rubbing the back of his head, which he tended to do when he was agitated, a sign she was well aware of.

She reached up and grabbed his hands. "It's what you've done before, more than once. You called it that day of your mother's wedding, Jackson, and I don't blame you one little bit," April softly replied. "I'm a failure, Jackson. I've failed at all the major moments in my life…virgin – check, lover – check, fiancé – check, doctor – check, wife – check and mother…" she whispered the last. "I couldn't even protect my own child, Jackson, and according to my mother I have so much repenting to do…even God is angry with me," she wiped a tear from her eye. "The least I could do was give you your freedom, hoping that you would find happiness. I have so much to atone for with you. I can't believe I never asked how you were doing, it's a regret I'll carry with me until the day I die."

Jackson listened to her words, his heart breaking. He immediately changed his mind about Joe Kepner being a role-model father. Obviously The Kepners, with their religious fanaticism had done a real number on April. Not that he eschewed any responsibility – how many times had he rejected her again? When they thought she was pregnant that first time and then sleeping with Stephanie so soon after he broke up with her. When he told her about him and Stephanie, he knew she wanted to get back together. When she almost ran into a blazing bus to save his life and he rejected her after that. Yet she chose him at her wedding when his timing was so inappropriate, causing her to hurt someone in the process. And this last time, when he gave her an ultimatum, instead of communicating with her. April had chosen to flee, both physically and emotionally but was he any better? He'd been pacing up and down her office with all these thoughts churning through his mind. He was going to change their destructive pattern right now he promised himself, firstly by tearing up the correct divorce papers that Mike had given him and then by showing April that she was far from a failure and the only woman he would ever love. It was going to be a mammoth undertaking, because one thing he knew about Kepners was their unrelenting stubbornness. What they didn't know, however, was Avery stubbornness far outweighed anything the Kepners could bring to the table. He hesitated for a second realizing that April was both – boy did he have his work cut out for him! He turned around ready to make a reconciliatory start, when he found her leaning against her desk, with what was hidden before now clearly visible.

"You're pregnant!"

"Until God takes him or her," she softly replied.

"What…what are you saying? What's wrong with our baby?" he asked, a visible tremor in his voice.

"I'm at 24 weeks Jackson, the same time I…I killed our baby, our Samuel," she cried.

"You did not kill him, April, we did not want his life to be one of suffering and pain," he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. He closed his eyes gearing himself up to ask the next question. "Does this baby have Osteogenesis Imperfecta too?"

"I don't know, but with everything I've done I don't expect God to go easy on me."

"Come on April, you're a doctor! Have you had any tests done?"

"No! and I don't intend to. I'm not going through that again!"

There's a lot more below the surface, he considered. It wasn't going to be as easy as just saying, I want to try again. He was going to have to be devious about this, but there was hope.

He left her office without saying another word, hearing her call his name in the background. He had to hurry, otherwise he would miss Joe Kepner. Luck was on his side and he convinced Joe to return his rental to the airport. He removed his luggage – luckily he had packed, preferring to always be prepared. Joe told him where April was staying, much to Karen's disgust. Quite conveniently it happened to be in a loft atop the surgery she was working at. So that's where he went, ready to wait outside her door. It wasn't too long after that he heard her footsteps and then her surprise at finding him there.

"Jackson…what…?"

"So you owe me, right April? You want to make amends?"

"Ye…ah," she hesitantly responded. She was wise to his thought process, no one else knew him better. But he was counting on her emotional state to not be astute to his machinations – all's fair in love and war and all that jazz, right? And even though this may verge on war first, he was resolute that love would out.

"I'm going to stay with you until the baby's born, then we'll decide on a visitation schedule or you could just give him to me," he released the arrow. Them's fighting words he thought, but he needed to see her reaction.

"What?" she cried out.

"You're saying you owe me and I want this baby! I'm going to take care of him until he's born. I don't believe you could ever do anything to harm your baby, but I don't know where your minds at April. I need to make sure you do what's best for the baby and that's why I'm going to stay with you."

A hurt expression crossed her face and she lifted her hand to her heart, which was very telling for him. Before they'd found out about Samuel's condition, she'd continuously touched her belly, sometimes with a reassuring cuddle and she'd loved it when he would rub her belly too, trying to convince him to talk to the baby. She was distancing herself from this baby, out of fear of losing him, or her. He was going to bring back the April he loved, the loving April who would love her child more than anything in the world. Boy, did he have a lot of damage to undo.

She opened the door and motioned him to enter.

"Where are you going to sleep? I only have the one bed," ever-practical April retorted and so his plan was set into motion.

"We're still married April, we'll sleep together of course."

He was going to have to start with some tough love. He was going to make her feel again, but he had to be subtle. April Avery née Kepner was nobody's fool.

April had chosen flight, with the best of intentions mind you, but in this last trimester of her pregnancy he was going to do all he could to get her to change her tune and for both of them to fight for their marriage and their family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fight or Flight**

 **A/N: Thank you kindly for the continued interest in this story and as always reviews are very much appreciated. I hope that the Japril love is still going strong, as tough and resilient as Japril's love – we have to let Shonda and Co know that we will accept nothing less than Japril togetherness, right guyz? So while it's an emotionally challenging ride, Jackson is working hard to win back the love of his life, to show her that it's not a measure of their worthiness for each other but it's simply a matter of survival – they cannot live happily without each other. So, let the courtship commence, onward to chapter 3. Happy reminder that all characters belong to the ingeniously shrewd Shonda Rhimes and, of course, her Grey's Anatomy.**

 **Ancillary Note: Apologies for posting this chapter so late dear readers – real life intervenes. I will, however, to the best of my abilities and barring unforeseen circumstances, try to never abandon a story. As a reader myself I know how it feels…**

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Chapter 3

"What the hell April? Why do I feel like I'm in a furnace?" Jackson exasperatedly sighs.

"Hot Flashes?" a serious voice supposes from the other side of the bed.

"What?!" he exclaims, amused despite himself. He'd mistakenly thought he'd have his work cut out to bring back their camaraderie, forgetting for a moment her unfiltered honesty and rare, wry wit, which to be frank had no concept of perfect timing. It had always amazed him how well her humor complemented his and at times even outpaced him. She was the only person that had successfully, consistently outsnarked him and unlike the dark and twisty 'sisters' of Grey Sloan (or 'Mertina' as he coined them) her drollness was never ever mean-spirited or cruel.

"Early onset Menopause?" she continued, not letting up, a smile in her voice.

"You really wanna go there, Cougar?" he laughingly rejoins, referencing the four month age gap between them. He'd always joked about being her toy-boy.

"Electric Blanket," her now sleepy voice replies.

"Well put it off please," he begs. "April? April, are you asleep?" he absurdly enquires, getting up to turn the thermostat on the blanket down only to discover that the electric blanket had not even been plugged in. It was an anomaly that he'd experienced once before. The heat radiating from April's body was the same as when she'd been pregnant with Samuel. Whereas before she'd tightly curl herself into his body for warmth, when she was pregnant her body heat necessitated that he stay as far away from her as possible. It kinda put a spoke in his wheel – he wanted to close-off her escape from uncomfortable conversation by ensuring that she couldn't escape his arms at bedtime and he'd hoped that the weather in this coastal town would co-operate in this endeavor. It was a moot point now though as both his wife and child couldn't bear the claustrophobia of his arms. He was no Psychologist or even a Psychiatrist but thinking about the baby gave him another idea to get April to listen to him – he was just going to have to be supremely devious, well more than he already was, about the whole plot.

He piloted a test run.

"April?" he softly whispered.

"Huh, what?" she groggily answered.

"Oh nothing…go to sleep," Jackson quickly replied.

He waited a few more minutes before trying again. "April…" an almost inaudible murmur.

"Hmm…" she was still above the ether, not yet succumbed.

A few more minutes, just to be on the safe side, he decided. This first time did not necessitate her attentiveness at all. In fact he required her supine, as far from alert as it was possible to be. Only once the rhythm was established then would the tricky part kick-in – April's unaware voluntary participation. He needed her awake and aware for the future conversations, but unaware of his awareness of her wakefulness – boy how confusing was that! He was going to be living the embodiment of the vaudeville routine of 'Who's on First?' It would be no comedy skit however, but a straightforward declaration of his feelings for her, albeit in a manner contrary to a direct approach.

After calling out her name a few more times and finally receiving no response, he confirmed that April was dead to the world…for that moment at least, here on their first night back together. He lifted up her pajama top, barring her rounded belly to his gaze. Placing a few butterfly kisses along her abdomen, he received a gentle kick hello from the baby. With a wry grin adorning his face, he curled his right hand into a fist and with a feather light fist bump high-fived the baby. He put his mouth against April's navel and speaking in a muted undertone to his son or daughter said "We've got this, bud!"

Subtlety is the name of the game and one that Jackson Avery has learned the mastery of since his sojourn in Haven. Aside from his obvious charms and total mastery of his looks, his 'Avery Sparkle' has been a surprising means to an end – essentially garnering him an Attending Position at The Penobscot Bay Medical Center. It's possible though that his legendary family legacy had a small part to play too. His new routine requires a ferry ride from North Haven to Rockland and from there an 8 minute drive, sans traffic, into Rockport and onward to Pen Bay Medical. He's quite surprised that his initial perception of Knox County as a series of laid-back coastal towns is actually much more. Rockport is quite the bustling metropolis and really advanced in the medical field too and Glen Cove Drive houses not only Pen Bay Medical but also Penobscot Bay Neurology. Also on the Drive and an added advantage in its accessibility is Pen Bay Medical Center Heliport, which facilitates the transportation of those requiring medical treatment from all corners of Knox County.

Aside from this detour in his career, he still contracts out to Grey Sloan Memorial and The Harper Avery Foundation, communicating the majority of the time via technology – mobile, email, Skype, and business conferencing whenever a Grey Sloan Board Meeting is convened. Also, Boston to Maine is but a car ride or very short helicopter trip away, so access to Foundation Headquarters is well within reach. Speaking of Headquarters, the word conjures visions of the base of operations of superheroes and he briefly wonders what superpowers he could claim as his own – well his alter ego would be Dr. Plastic, almost as bad as 'The Plastics Posse' he laughingly deduces.

It's actually the perfect solution; laid-back coastal town with friendly citizenry, humane working hours but still with the prospect of cutting-edge procedures and, most importantly to him, building a quality AND quantity life with his family. Contrary to the unsolicited opinions and advice from their so-called friends at Grey Sloan Memorial, it's a lifestyle he would have chosen even if his family consisted of just April and himself…being Just Japril. Their self-proclaimed motto of 'Me and You' had fallen to the wayside, what with their lack of open and honest communication and while it was _slightly_ dishonest to April and his lawyers that he'd come looking for a divorce, he justified his fraud with the conviction that this was the 'in' he required. He was, in the interim, diligently and delicately working on Team AppleJacks emerging from their tunnel of grief if not totally healed then at least on the path of restoration together. His mental acuity surprised him; he was actually giddy at the challenge he faced, that of winning his wife back. Even though a part of him still grieved Samuel's death (and always would) he was allowing himself to get excited about meeting their second child. It's a destination and mindset he hoped to bring April to. Home was wherever April resided and the excruciating lesson that had to occur three times before it took root, was that her absence had taught him that his happiness and home was April. He would follow her anywhere. He loved her and would never leave her for even if there were a hundred reasons to give up, he would search and find the one reason to hold on.

Admittedly being absent from Grey Sloan Memorial and especially their colleagues, is a welcome hiatus from all their judgement. He's particularly appalled by Meredith Grey's condescension and insensitivity to what they've been through and although he's absolved her behavior in the light of her misfortune he is cognizant of her lack of condolences to them. With gossip being rife at their previous working environment, he's even aware that on the day that Samuel died Meredith's main focus had been getting laid. Aside from that and with selfish thoughtlessness during a conversation with Richard and Catherine, she'd said to his mother "I don't know who's dead for you". Apparently his son did not even merit an existence according to Meredith Grey. He's really not being hypocritical, her life was her own to live as she saw fit – he just expected that April's kind heartedness would be reciprocated. April had been there for Meredith when she'd experienced a miscarriage the day that Gary Clarke shot up the hospital and, at Meredith's behest, it was a secret that she'd kept for her too. Some might argue that miscarrying a fetus was not the same as the death of a child, but his gentle April felt deeply for others. So he'd kinda had it with how their coworkers looked down on her and particularly because she possessed qualities that, in his eyes, put them all to shame. He was righteously indignant on April's behalf and while he followed no religious ideologies and with no gloating intended, when he thought of Meredith's insensitivity one phrase leapt to mind – Karma's a bitch.

Aside from Meredith Grey, another one on his shit list is Miranda Bailey. The day of that major trauma and his mother's and Richard's wedding he'd heard Bailey's disparaging remarks about the 'old Kepner'. She'd derided all the qualities that Jackson loved and admired in April – to Bailey and her ilk, April's compassion and heart were synonymous with weakness. Bailey's mockery and mimicry of his wife was painful to hear for the simple reason that he knew April had the utmost admiration for Dr. Bailey and to find out that she did not even merit reciprocal respect would have been a further raw ache to her tender heart. As April's best friend he'd always been protective of her but as her husband he would safeguard her with everything that he had. Bailey was so deluded in her arrogance, which trait he supposed was to be expected in the pint-sized 'Nazi', being that she was a surgeon. Her lack of humility, though, in the face of all her faults, more than one of which had almost got the hospital sued on at least two separate occasions, guaranteed that Jackson would totally throw the full weight of his 51% vote _against_ the appointment of Dr. Miranda Bailey as the next Chief of Surgery of Grey Sloan Memorial.

Jackson was no stranger to women of strength – his mother was a proud example. Catherine Avery was a woman of steel who made no bones about who and what she was. Miranda Bailey, on the other hand, masqueraded as strength, a selfish kind – her deceptive comfort concealed a cunning, cold connivance. His April though, she was tempered steel. Her superpower was empathy. And today, that was the rub. She had fortified her inner resources and surrendered the life she carried to spare him pain and suffering and she had endured the personal anguish. Burying her grief had unforeseen consequences however – she'd lost hope and a bit of compassion too. What led them to the path they were on was him holding up a mirror to his grief. April's emotions had unfurled and her heart and mind could not handle that she'd deprived the one person in the world that mattered most to her and that was in dire need of her kindness, consideration and love. She was functioning in survival mode, a disconnect of her physical being and mental consciousness – a Sleeping Beauty. It was up to this Prince Charming to step up and awaken her heart again. Wait…had he muddled fairytale analogies again? Whatever, he thought, as long as he got to kiss the girl…and live their happily ever after, of course.

They fell back into routine seamlessly. His plotting, however, was temporarily stalled. Even in the midst of self-flagellation and doubt, April knew him well enough to know when he was up to no good. She kept a beady eye out for any whiff of a scheme and subconsciously put a kibosh on his machinations. Not only was the plan on a temporary lull but the effect of the interruption delayed the conversations he hoped to have with his unborn child. He consoled himself with the notion that it was a fleeting diversion and that implementation of his strategy would occur as soon as April became comfortable enough to let her guard down. The waiting game, conversely, had an unintended side-effect.

Exacerbated by pregnancy, April's hormones were hay-wire and he fondly recollected their first pregnancy before the diagnosis – hormonal April was a sex fiend and she brooked no refusal. She wanted it when she wanted it, even to the extent of revisiting supply closets and on-call rooms at work. Since their marriage she'd put a moratorium on having sex at work, considering it undignified and unprofessional but all her fine principles had taken a dive when pregnancy hormones had kicked in. What had made the diagnosis so untenable, aside from the obvious, was that it hit them out of the blue. April had been so diligent and vigilant with her body, her eating habits and her pre-natal supplements and her absolute conviction that their baby would be fine had even allayed his fears. Before the boom was lowered…or rather fell onto them, hammering them into the ground, they'd been experiencing a near perfect pregnancy. April suffered minimal morning sickness was emotional at times, true, and was so horny that _he_ experienced pregnancy cravings – _he_ wanted _her_ all the time. Which brought him back to the longing expression on her face now.

She gazed at him with that glint in her eye. He decided to test out his hypothesis and removed the T-Shirt he'd been planning to wear to bed. And there it was. She gazed at him lasciviously, biting her bottom lip in that intensely concentrated way that immediately and always gunned his libido – just that one action of hers reduced him to a slobbering mess of want. She was clueless about it though. From that first time she'd bitten her lip so seductively, the intent vivid on her face, that hotel bathroom had become an oasis of pleasure. What he'd been able to glean later from her was that she'd always thought it was her direct gaze and their suggestive dialogue that had got the ball rolling. He'd never mentioned to her that the lip bite was his kryptonite – with it she unwittingly unmanned him by innocently controlling his hunger for her. She revved his engine and he was ready to go.

She turned away this time though, hiding her expressive face and the unbidden desire to copulate. But he knew her – although she'd managed to surprise him with her leaving – she felt that she couldn't ask him to make love to her with the status of their marriage in doubt. For a brief moment he considered using the tack that had got him into her apartment and life once again, that of using the line that she owed him. He immediately rejected it however. One aspect of their relationship that was always totally honest was their lovemaking and he had two reasons for not tarnishing that. Firstly, he loved how open and honest and physically in tune they were with each other and secondly he decided that it was time for them to expose themselves in the same vein emotionally. The scheme that he had planned was to uncover their vulnerabilities, to bring about truthful communication, even if it required April to be an initial witness to the process, bringing about a level of comfort that allowed her to open up emotionally to him too.

With that in mind, he cautiously approached her, turned her face towards him and lifted her chin for direct eye to eye communication. If her lip biting was his kryptonite he knew that his intense stare was hers and he used it unhesitatingly. She got him back immediately and he was mesmerized by pearly white teeth worrying the corner of her bottom lip.

"I want you. I miss you and I want you." The declaration flowed forthrightly from his lips.

April regarded him with a surprised expression and a slightly misty eyed gaze before attacking his lips in a wild kiss. Their kisses were a contradiction – they explored each other's mouths like it was virgin territory, it had been a long six months since their last kiss and yet on the other hand they knew exactly where to nip and bite to cause gasps and sighs of excitement. They pulled away from each other after a few minutes, gulping for breath, their lungs on fire.

Jackson scrutinized her uncertain expression and had to ask, "April, do you not want to do this?"

In lieu of a verbal response she simply removed her top and attacked his lips passionately once again.

They made love with a wild abandon but Jackson made sure not to crush her, well she mostly enjoyed being on top anyway. No mention was made though of the sensitivity and size of her breasts, she simply moaned in excitement at the ministrations they received and Jackson definitely did not bring up the rounded curve of her abdomen – he simply ghosted over the area while caressing the rest of her. As she lay in his arms after they'd both come down off the high, he realized that the baby had indirectly given him yet more ammunition in this fight to win back his love. He would woo her with hormone induced sex on the one hand and long conversations with the baby telling him or her everything that he wanted April to hear as the other grenade in his arsenal. It was a double-pronged assault.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fight or Flight**

 **A/N: Heartfelt gratitude to everyone taking an interest in this work of fiction. From the speculation and rumors that have emanated out of tumblr and twitter (as well as beginning season 12) I can confidently re-iterate that this little ficlet will never be canon. As I've said before it's an AU idea that I've enjoyed fleshing out and I'd like to once more convey my thanks for the wonderful reviews. For those too shy to review but who express their appreciation and/or interest with favorites and/or follows, many thanks to you too. Jumping right into it – herewith more with chapter four :-) Continuously Disclaiming: Aside from the resident/s occupying April's belly (had to keep some mystery guyz ;-), all other characters belong to ABC's Grey's Anatomy and the crafty Shonda Rhimes.**

* * *

Chapter 4

"So kids, the first time I met your mom, she…"

"Oh no you didn't – not 'How I met your Mother', Jackson! And what do you mean _'kids'_ huh?! You're talking multiples again!"

"Sheesh, April – I'm trying to have a conversation with our children. See? They don't want you to butt in. Feels like you have a litter in there, babe! A very annoyed litter – Avery annoyed? Hmmm, Catherine Avery genes strike early…You wanna hear this story, right kidos?"

" _Jackson_!"

Flurried as she was by his antics, it was more in the form of a playful exasperation. She was secretly thrilled. Electrified by the possibilities of what all the kicking meant. Euphoric at what that signified. Elated with how far she and Jackson had come in their journey back to each other. But most of all, she was on a natural high; ecstatic to be experiencing a healthy, physically obstacle-free pregnancy and exhilarated to be on the cusp of giving birth, hopefully complication free. While she would never be able to totally relax, her frame of mind leading up to the birth was a surprising miracle to her. It hadn't been an easy ride but the master manipulator, whose deviant lips were at this very moment glued to her navel, had persevered in his stealthy machinations, slowly overthrowing her insecurities and fears. He was unaware though, that she'd been on to him since the inception of his plan. His modus operandi was to try and outsmart her by having her believe that he was oblivious of her conscientious observation to his conversations. From the beginning he was heedless as to how alert she was to his well-intentioned manipulation and that she'd knowingly but stealthily submitted to his maneuverings. To put it simply, he didn't know that she knew that he knew she knew not only what he wanted her to know but also _that_ he wanted her to know. It was unexpectedly confusing.

It was a dark and stormy night – the night that intrigue visited. An electrical storm caused a blackout, which in turn led to covert black ops. It started with a furtive whisper, this one not meant to be overheard by her. The only reason she became privy to it was because Jackson and Co. could not agree on the name of the clandestine op – leading to the first father/offspring altercation, and that too in-utero.

" _Commencing Undercover Op DM, aka Dr. Mom!"_

Although spoken in a hushed tone, the words reverberated, echoing acoustically to her auditory cannel.

The response was instantaneous – wild kicking ensued. The unexpected ferocity of movement in her tummy was enough to revive her completely from her half wakeful state.

Blackout was still in effect. The power failure had driven them to bed earlier than normal and as Jackson's passion for B-ball could not be indulged, he concentrated on satiating his other craving, the all-consuming appetite he had for her. Although, even if he'd still been able to indulge vociferously in the armchair Basketball game, there was still the medical drama (some colorless anatomy?) that she wanted to watch after – so "Netflix and Chill" was very much on Jackson's Agenda. As he laughingly explained to her this was the newest catch-phrase, what the youngsters were using as a seduction technique – a basic rework of the pop-cultural cliché "Would you like to come up and see my etchings?" So while 'Netflix' was absent, it was 'Chill' out there, _in_ there, really. He was ever so romantic; focused and attentive and their intimacy was underscored by glowing candlelight. His over cautious nature though had him blowing out the candles before they succumbed to slumber...or so she thought. Here in the pitch-blackness of night he was apparently wide awake, discussing strategy.

She was fully roused now too but made no movement to alert him to this fact. This conversation was riveting.

" _Okay, okay…Commencing Undercover Op MD, aka Medical Doctor! Yeah I know that's the one you like and that it's more secret and easier to hide from your mother, but you know I'm an MD too, right little tykes, and your mom…well let's just say she's too pure of heart, she'll never pick-up what we're up to!"_

She almost gave herself away with a loud snort but was distracted by his conversing with the baby in plural and also she was mesmerized by the adorable exchange. How long had this been going on, she wondered? She was fascinated by the whimsy…and his methodology too – no baby-talk, he was parental but not patronizing. It was an obvious continuation of a previous chat, enough of one for Jackson to be able to interpret the non-verbal cues. Come to think of it, the physical activity in her belly seemed to intensify whenever Jackson was close and more especially when they were having a conversation together. She was mesmerized to be an audience to the developing bond between her husband and their offspring, but she was also still afraid to allow hope to take the wheel of her metaphorical vehicle. It ate at her that Jackson never got to bond with Samuel. In her heart of hearts she knew that he would be a great daddy.

She listened intently trying to discern what plot was being hatched to gang up on her. Was she 'bad cop' in this scenario, the yin to his yang in respect of parenting styles? It became quiet. She frowned to herself, confused by his actions and the almost inaudible chat with her belly, which she now realized was not meant to be overheard by her. All became clearer the following night when, despite her resolve to remain awake, she was rudely revived by the deceptive sting of a feather-light combination of pinch and tickle. He was a tad Machiavellian, his implementation cunning and duplicitous but, as she later came to appreciate, the intent was pure. It was for the greater good of their relationship and family and although he was ruthless in the execution of his plan, the basis for his scheming was love. He maneuvered her with the masterful art of honest communication, conveyed very unconventionally. He was her best friend as well as the love of her life and despite how emotionally closed off he was, _she knew him_. He approached a problem head-on, plunging full-steam ahead for a solution but he was also intuitive and inventive – in this instance he was employing a circuitous route to her heart. The least that she could do was co-operate, right? Her compliance was a reciprocal manipulation, allowing him to believe that the result of his connivance was a successful implementation of Plan DM…or was it MD?

"You know your mom loves you, right? Pfft, what am I telling _you_ for…you can feel her heartbeat from the inside and you know it beats for you…and for me. _Me and you_."

He kissed the right side of her belly. "Mama loves you," he whispered.

He kissed the left side of her belly, switching to the other significant parental title. "Dad loves you," he murmured.

Then, quite loudly, almost like the bang of a Crackerjack (a CrackerJackson?!), alleviating the quietness of before…"Dr. D out!"

He eased her into the operation with surprising finesse. It started with an observation, sometimes a proclamation followed by a nightly epilogue, which he'd fashioned the first night the plan went into effect. The spontaneous beauty of his nightly sign off started cracking the façade and the initial implementation of this ritual had unbidden tears spilling. It was really well-played. What totally melted her though, aside from the honest emotion, was the realization that the formation of this nighttime habit and the action itself, although a by-product, was not a maneuver. It was simply an impulsive act by a previously closed-off individual opening himself up, unconditionally, to loving his children. His plan had an unintended boon it seemed – it unpacked his previous emotional unavailability.

"Your mom, she's so beautiful – inside and out…but you wanna know what the dopest thing about her is, huh? Her big heart!" The narrative continued.

"Now while she's never been comfortable interacting socially – she's just way too honest for society to handle – throw her into a crisis or trauma and your mom…well she's just gangbusters! She becomes this super confident Amazon and she's so bossy!" he reminisced to her belly. "She's all that and a bag of chips!"

Peering out at him through the tiny slits created between her upper and lower eyelids as she sneaked a quick peek, she observed the wide grin that he sported. He was messing with her, hoping to captivate her with his witty repartee of slang and she had to admit, he was mad funny, a real smart-ass. She knew this exchange was for her benefit but playing along she quickly but obviously shut her eyes when he chanced a glance. Unable to physically observe him any longer, she was not impervious to his still palpable excitement. Oh, the game was on!

Seemingly forgetting that this conversation had a captive audience of fetuses and the subject herself, he waffled on, almost in a reminiscent fashion, as if he was simply talking to himself.

"Her compassion, though, is what defines her – that and her capacity for empathy. Yeah, April just loves helping people. She learns their names and their stories and they remain human beings requiring her help to fix what's broken," he blathered. "She doesn't look at them as just organs or opportunities for her to showboat," he reflected.

Turning his attention once more to his listeners, he continued, "Not to say that your mom isn't competitive – _you_ know how much she loves to win – but it's always to the advantage of the underdog. Big corporation or big hospital versus little patient and your mom is always on the side of the patient. Don't let the fact that we're part of the Harper Avery legacy fool you – your mother would go toe to toe with your Great Grandfather Harper if she got the whiff of an injustice. She is a rare individual. Her compassionate heart actually makes her an exceptional surgeon," he concluded on a solemn note.

"Do you want to hear another little secret, hey? Your mother, she's a heartbreaker – and she doesn't even know it!" He poured on the sugar with a heavy hand, but she was not one to complain.

"One time this comic-con dude faked a heart attack just to be near her in the ER…then there was this doctor and a para…er…nevermind…" he stuttered to an abrupt halt.

Unable to control it this time, an unbidden snigger managed to escape her but she quickly disguised it as a rattling grunt (definitely NOT a snore!) and shuffled around in bed to mimic 'asleep but turning over'. She couldn't believe he actually almost went there – talk about rambling…

"Anyway…so, many people just adore this complicated vessel that's allowing you room and board at the moment," he jokingly affirmed, impersonating a rad, chillin, somewhat unconventionally humorous dad but most likely having just run out of synonyms for 'Mom'.

Well he had to change it up a bit to keep the troops entertained, she supposed.

"Here's something that _I_ for one found unbelievable – _your mother_ has Grandma Catherine's seal of approval! Now _that_ is some mean feat, I tell you! You'll realize how momentous that is once you meet your grandmother!" he determined, settling on that line of thought.

"Okay, information overload, huh?! Continue tomorrow?" Declarative sentences both ending questioningly. She assumed that the motionlessness in her belly was his cue to accept the confirmation.

He switched it up this night by kissing the left side of her abdomen first, adding "Mama loves you."

Then a kiss to the right side, "Dad loves you too."

And signing off, "Dr. D out!"

"So, you know how I told you all about your mom's big heart and how much she loves you? I did not exaggerate, not even a little! Hey…I resent the implication that I'm a drama queen!" he gently scolded towards her undulating uterus.

"You may be sensing some hesitancy on her part and there's a very good reason for that. You see, not too long ago, your mom…well she had her heart broken. Mine too really – but your mother, she feels things so deeply and this is an ache that will never leave us. Having you helps – not replacements mind you, but your presence brings us hope…and happiness," he reassured.

"You guys had a brother, Samuel Norbert Avery," he continued in a thickened voice. Just saying Samuel's name always broke him a little, she realized. Like her he probably remembered how his name came about and how perfectly it fit their absent little one. Apparently though, their other brood inherited their father's unorthodox (let's be real, simply weird!) sense of humor, but also it seemed his 'perfect' timing – on a sliding scale, of course. As opposed to her, his timing was textbook!

It was much needed levity she realized, so she simply let it be and enjoyed the conversation. The movements she experienced and watched simulated the feeling and motion of giggles.

Amazingly enough it seemed that her kid (kids?) found the name hilarious. It was as if a supernatural hand tickled their funny bone or maybe Samuel himself communing from the great beyond. He would definitely have had a bone to pick with them about the inclusion of 'Norbert' as his middle name!

"Okay enough with the attitude, your mom gave me grief about Great Uncle Norbert's name too!" he chastised her belly.

"Now where was I before I was so rudely interrupted…you know that's very unbecoming behavior for Averys hey…now calm down both of you or I'm gonna have to throw some shade à la Nicki Minaj," he grinningly chided as _his_ admonishment continued unabated.

"Kids, what's good?!" he reprimanded to the persistent kicks shadowing her sleepwear, verbally pantomiming the drag heard around the world – but of course substituting the name of the spoilt brat exhibitionist it referred to.

It required valiant restraint for her not to give up the game. While she knew children required discipline and to be taught ethical and moral values – she definitely wouldn't want their kids exhibiting Miley Cyrus behavior – she was not in favor of the major diss that just occurred. To be fair though, she knew that he meant it as a humorous reproof, expressed anecdotally. Understanding his intention is what allowed her to keep mum! No pun intended, she mentally added, amused despite herself.

All her good intentions went up in smoke the next night with the advent of Jackson's nonchalant conversation. All geared up to fight fire with fire (being the absence of fire in this situation), his verbal diarrhea – intentional, as she later surmised – pushed her into a response. Boy, was he good and knowing her weaknesses he got her playing right into his hands!

"You know, your mom kinda grew on me. I enjoyed her quirkiness and her unfiltered honesty but I thought that just made her a unique, 'got your back' best friend. Until that night in San Francisco when she kissed me and we had S-E-X for the first…"

He was rudely cut-off by a flamboyantly obvious splutter.

"Jackson, what are you doing?" she calmly capitulated, ratifying his victory. So he knew which of her buttons to push! She willingly surrendered. She was not about to discuss their sex life with her kids!

"Just telling the kids about me and you," he gloatingly smiled, accepting his triumph. She did not verbally express his win, but her unpremeditated response was in itself a defeat to his conquest.

"Well, stop it. It's inappropriate. And spelling out the word…" she rolled her eyes at him.

He grinned buffoonishly, "Better doing than spelling…"


End file.
